


5 Times Peter Helped the Avengers & 1 Time the Avengers Helped Peter - PART 2

by yourlocalmarvelfan



Series: Peter Parker Helps the Avengers [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Carol Danvers - Freeform, Comic Hawkeye Not Movie Hawkeye (still Jeremy Renner looks but Comic Book Canon), Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, I need this okay?, Peter Parker - Freeform, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, Trans Peter Parker, Trans Steve Rogers, Trauma, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Parker Friendship, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, peter has trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlocalmarvelfan/pseuds/yourlocalmarvelfan
Summary: 1. Clint2. Wanda3. Steve4. Dr. Strange5. Carol/Capt. Marvel
Relationships: Carol Danvers & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Stephen Strange & Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Parker
Series: Peter Parker Helps the Avengers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191764
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73





	1. Clint

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Part 2 to this series. Feel free to check out part 1, should you feel so inclined! That one has Bucky, Loki, Bruce, Tony, and Nat!!! I have a lot of fun writing these, and I can't wat for more!
> 
> (PS any and all comments are so appreciated. Drown my inbox if you feel like it. I live for comments haha)

It had been _ages_ since Peter had the penthouse of the Tower all to himself. In the nearly 2 years since he’d moved in after May’s car accident, he could count on one hand how many times the penthouse had been empty. He’d count on it being every 6 months or so, give or take a few weeks. Today happened to be one of those times where everyone was supposed to be out. Pepper had a conference in Texas and she wouldn’t be back until morning, and dad had texted him saying they had a mission in Paris, and everyone was going, and they were hoping to be back in a few days. 

It also just happened to be a Friday night, and even though Peter wasn’t allowed to patrol without someone there with him, he didn’t mind. He had his eye on something a little more unconventional that he tried to do only when he was alone: his bi-annual screamfest. Every time he had the penthouse to himself he would get off of the elevator and immediately scream, and spend the rest of his night/day randomly releasing stress. 

Which was why when Peter stepped out of the elevator into the penthouse, he let out a long scream, dropping his bag as he went. And then Clint came around the corner and Peter had a lovely little heart attack right then and there. 

“Are you okay-- hey Pete, what was that noise?” Clint asked, looking exhausted. 

“Hey, Uncle Clint. I’m fine, I just assumed I would be alone, since dad texted at lunch and said there was a mission in Paris and the whole team was shipping out to deal with it,” Peter explained. “You look…”

“Exhausted? Terrible? Over It?” Clint asked. “It’s my weekend with the kids, but when I called Laura to ask if we could switch weekends, she was already most of the way here with Nate and Lila, so I hung back. Cooper is out on a date with Hayden, he’s driving up later. Lila’s currently in her room crying over god-only-knows, and Nate is running rampant, also crying about--” Clint stopped, taking a breath. “About how he wants Laura. I don’t know how to make that better. I don’t even know where he’s run off to. Plus, I’m down a hearing aid, so I can’t even _hear_ half of the stuff going on around here!”

“FRI, where’s Nathaniel?” Peter asked. Clint smacked his forehead, mumbling under his breath how he should have just asked the all-seeing AI.

“Youngest Mr. Barton is currently hiding under the kitchen sink in the cabinet,” FRIDAY replied. Clint turned to the kitchen, but Peter stopped him. 

“Why don’t you go figure out what’s up with Lila. I’ll see what I can do about Nate. I think if he wants Laura, neither of you will get anywhere. You’ll feel shitty because you can’t fix it, and he feels bad because you kind of look like a kicked puppy right now and he figures it’s his fault,” Peter suggested. “And then I’ll grab your hearing aids later and fix them up real quick,” he added.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. If you need me, you know where to find me,” Clint said, starting down the hall to his daughter’s room, while Peter headed for the kitchen. 

“I heard there was a baby bird lurking around here,” Peter called as he walked in. “Is he… in the oven?” he asked, opening the oven. “No, no baby bird in there. What about in the… cookie jar?” he asked, his voice echoing into the jar as he opened it. He heard a small, watery giggle then. “Oh? What was that I heard? Have I found the baby bird?” he asked, opening the cupboard under the sink, revealing the smallest Barton. 

“Peter!” exclaimed Nathaniel, throwing his arms around the older boy, and Peter laughing, rocking back to avoid sprawling back onto the floor. 

“Hey, buddy, how’ve you been? You’re getting tall!” Peter said, standing up. 

“‘m okay,” Nate said. 

“I heard from your dad you were feeling a little upset. Do you wanna talk about it?” Peter asked. Nate shook his head into his shoulder, and Peter nodded. “That’s okay, we’ll try again later. You want a piggyback ride?”

“Yeah!” Nate cheered. Peter grinned, swinging the young boy onto his back like he weighed nothing(which to Peter, he did) and running around the main rooms a few times. In the end, they were both a little out of breath, and they fell onto the couch laughing. 

“Do you wanna go see what daddy’s up to?” Peter asked him, knowing he would end up with one of two reactions. Nate shook his head immediately, adamant. 

“I want mom,” Nate whined, tears pooling in his eyes again. Peter nodded. 

“I know, bud. Your dad mentioned you said that. Can you tell me why you’d rather have mom than dad?”

“Mom said that dad knows bad people and has a dangerous job. ‘s not safe here,” Nate mumbled. Peter understood, of course. He’s also about 99% sure that Laura had no idea Nate was even there when she’d said that to whoever she was talking to. 

“You wanna know a secret?” Peter asked, leaning in conspiratorially. Nate nodded.

“Everyone here has a dangerous job. Even me!” Peter admitted. “We make sure that nobody else has to know the bad people. And you know Tony and Bruce? Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner?”

Nate nodded.

“Okay. Well they’re both super smart and they’ve made this entire tower super hard to get into, so no one’s ever going to be able to hurt you here. And your dad never goes anywhere dangerous alone, he’s always got me or Auntie Nat or one of our other friends with him to keep him safe,” Peter promised. Nathaniel watched him, nodding slowly. 

“What does your dad do?” he asked. Peter sucked in a breath. “Does he do something dangerous, too?”

Peter considered his answer. How do you phrase this to a 6 year old?

“Well, my daddy, the one who was married to my mommy, right? He died when I was really little. Just a little older than you. He was just in a scary accident with my mom, and they both died. So then I went to live with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben, you remember Aunt May at the Tower once? They both died in accidents, too. These accidents don’t usually happen, I promise. But they happened to my family. So now, my dad is Tony! He has a pretty dangerous job, but he’s doing okay, right? He’s safe.”

“Yeah, he’s safe!” Nate agreed. 

“And you wanna know a secret?” Peter asked. He paused, hearing footsteps, knowing it was Clint, but decidedly not looking up. “Your dad is one of my favorite people in the world. He’s my family, too. He’s so good at what he does, and he’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, did you know that? And your dad would do anything to get home to you and your siblings. So would your auntie Nat. They love you guys so much, and we all do our job to make the world a better place, so hopefully they won’t need heroes anymore, and you won’t have to worry anymore.”

“Really?” Nate asked. 

“Yeah, bud. Really,” Clint’s voice came from the doorway. He walked over and pulled Nate onto his lap, settling down next to Peter, slinging an arm around him. “I’ll always do everything that I can to come home to you and your siblings. Peter, too, if he doesn’t come with us. I love you very much, and I’m sorry you didn’t think it was safe here. Next time, just let me know, hmm?” Clint requested. Nathaniel nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you go cheer up your sister, she’s feeling a little down today, hmm?”

At that, Nate jumped up and ran off to his sister, barely dodging a corner after he turned around to wave at them. 

“Favorite people?” Clint asked, turning to Peter with shining eyes. 

“Well, duh. Not just anyone gets the honor of being my uncle,” Peter shrugged. 

“Love you, kiddo,” Clint said, pulling his pseudo-nephew in for a hug.

“Love you, too, Uncle Clint,” Peter grinned.


	2. Wanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Clint  
> 2\. Wanda  
> 3\. Steve  
> 4\. Dr. Strange  
> 5\. Carol/Capt. Marvel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sat staring at a blank screen for a solid 24 hours after publishing Clint's chapter, trying to figure out how I wanted to start this story and where I wanted it to end up. Especially after I was fucking DESTROYED by WandaVision, so Wanda gets a happier reality in this story.  
> Comments keep me going these days, drop one if you liked this!  
> Sending love to you all.

Every Saturday, Peter and Wanda had a routine. Their 3 C’s: Coffee, Central Park, catching up. They used to try to plan for a time, but they quickly figured out that their sleep schedules weren’t nearly aligned enough, so they would just go once they were both awake. 

Wanda, ever the early riser, was up with the sun, training with Steve and making them both a huge breakfast afterwards. Even after all her morning training, she still had plenty of time before Peter woke up… around 12:30 or 1. Then, the two would hop on the subway and head to their favorite coffee shop, Hadley’s Bean Juice before meandering through Central Park and playing catch up on the previous week. They saw a lot of each other of course, but sometimes it took a clear mind and a clear schedule to remember all the good stuff. 

That particular Saturday afternoon, Peter had just woken up, and immediately gone in search of his friend, becoming slightly more concerned the more he searched. She wasn’t in any of her usual positions, and Steve had said she’d skipped morning practice, a sad look on his face. 

“Сестра?” Peter called, wandering the penthouse. “Wanda?” he tried. He was growing increasingly worried about his sister-figure when he bumped into Clint. 

“Hey, Uncle Clint!”

“Hey, Petey-Pie. How’s life?”

“I mean, I just woke up, so it hasn’t wronged me yet, I guess,” Peter shrugged, and Clint laughed, nodding. “Have you seen Wanda?”

Clint was quiet for a minute. “No, but I know where she is.” 

Peter let the silence stretch a minute before raising one brow. “And that would be…?”

“Maybe we should give her a little space, Pete,” Clint attempted.

“Why don’t you just tell me instead of stalling, Clint?” Silence. “FRIDAY. What is the significance of today for Wanda?”

“Today marks 5 years since Pietro Maximoff’s death in Sokovia. Ms. Maximoff is currently out of the Tower,” FRIDAY chirped. 

“Clint, I’m as serious as a heart attack. Where’s Wanda?” Peter asked. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask FRI.”

“It’s not too far, you could probably swing. She usually spends her whole day there, so don’t rush. Go grab food before you go,” Clint requested. 

“Fine. I’ll swing by Delmar’s on my way, maybe,” Peter said, knowing that Clint knew what he meant. _I’ll swing by Delmar’s if it doesn’t hurt too much to go that way._ “Where’s she at?”

“She’s in Queens, kid…” 

The whole team knew that Peter avoided Queens as much as he could after May. There was too much there, and it hurt him to swing past the intersection where it happened, which was right in the middle of his little Queens world. Even when he avoided going by there, it hurt to swing past their old apartment building and past May’s hospital. So he just avoided the entire 5 block radius as much as he could. But this time, he just raised an eyebrow at his uncle. 

“Court Garrett Cemetery. It was the closest we could find for him with available plots. We tried to get him closer for her, but…” Clint trailed off. “Let her know I’m thinking of her?” he asked finally, and Peter nodded, already tapping his watch and headed for the nearest open window. 

“Karen, let dad know that I’m headed out for the day, so I’ll miss the lab. Tell him I’ll give him a call if I’m going to be late, but I’m with Wanda so he shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Of course, Peter.”

When Peter reached the cemetery, having gone the long way to avoid all the familiar streets that he could while still stopping at Delmar’s, he was a little out of breath. He sat in a nearby alleyway to eat his sandwich and retract his suit before walking over to the gates and through them. 

He had to wander for a while to find Wanda, but when he did spot her, his heart broke a little bit. She was laying out on a blanket, just looking at the stone and tracing Pietro’s name in it. 

“Сестра?” Peter called softly, walking towards her. Wanda looked up, and Peter paused. “I can leave if you want to be alone, or--”

“Stay here. Please,” Wanda said, her voice barely loud enough to carry. Peter kept moving towards her, and he sat down on the blanket, far enough away to give her space. 

“Is it true what they say about twins? Are they really that close? Like read-each-other’s-minds close and can-sense-them-like-a-second-consciousness close?” Peter asked. “I feel like it’s cheating to ask a literal mind-reader but…”

Wanda smiled sadly. “It was easier than reading his mind. He was just always there. He filled a space that no one else will ever be able to again. He was a piece of my puzzle, and I _felt_ him die. I felt that puzzle piece fall away into the void. He was…” she paused, her voice cracking. “He was all that I had left and suddenly her was just gone and--”

Wanda choked off into a sob and Peter snaked an arm over her side to grab her hand. 

“I know,” Peter whispered, leaning down from his cross-legged position to press his forehead to her shoulder. “After… after May, I felt the same thing. It feels like nothing will ever be okay again, because they’re all you had, they were all that was left of your family and suddenly they’re just taken from you--” now it was Peter’s turn to stop. “I know,” he said again. Wanda sat up and hugged him, holding him tight, and he held her back. 

“Steve told me last night that we’re making a new family now,” Wanda said into his shoulder. “But what if I’m not ready for a family that big yet? For 15 years, I only ever had a brother.”

“You have Vision and me. If that’s all you want, all you need, that’s okay. No one will judge you for it. They want you to be a part of the family, but if that’s something you aren’t ready for, they’ll understand.”

“I know, I just--”

“Сестра. If you only want to call two people family, no one will judge or question you.”

“Okay…” Wanda said, sounding more certain now.

“Okay,” Peter said quietly, not mentioning anything about how Wanda held him a little tighter. 

They sat and enjoyed mostly-silent company for a while before Wanda sighed and stood, waiting for Peter to follow her so she could fold up her blanket to put in her bag. 

“I need a coffee, stat. Today was exhausting,” she commented as she led them left, down a different alleyway. 

“Isn’t Hadley’s like… 20 miles to the right? Via the subway that’s _also_ to the right?”

“It is, but I prefer the high way,” Wanda smirked, and Peter rolled his eyes, already using his stickiness to grip her shoulders as she lifted them high off of the ground and into the clouds. 

“You’ve overused that joke. Plus it’s not good,” Peter whined.

“I beg to differ. You’re just hard to please,” Wanda said, giving him a look out of the corner of her eye. 

When they landed near the coffee shop, Peter adjusted his wind-tousled hair before they stepped out of yet another alleyway. Peter didn’t realize how many alleys were in New York until he became Spider-Man and started flying around with Wanda. They walked into the shop and were greeted with smiles and small talk from the baristas who knew them. Once they’d received their drinks, they took the walk to Central Park in silence before they started talking, as per the tradition. 

Wanda asked Peter about how his final chemistry project of the semester was going, if he and Harley had figured out when Harley was going to be able to fly up, and how his ballet with Nat was going, now that they had started giving it another try. 

Peter took the time to ask a little about her most recent missions, how Vision was since he was always out collecting more intel, and if she’d tried any new foods recently. Usually they would switch off asking a few times, but this time Wanda let the silence settle.

“Remember earlier when you said it was okay to just call two people my family?” she asked suddenly.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I didn’t tell you then because I wanted to pick a better moment but… what if it’s three people?”

“A family is what you make it, Wanda. It’s forever. But who’s the third person?”

“You and Vis, of course, and then…” Wanda smirked, hand unconsciously moving to her stomach. Peter stopped in the middle of the path.

“Wanda, you had better not be joking. If you’re joking I will die right here.”

“I’m serious. I haven’t even told Vision yet. I just found out.”

“Wait, isn’t Vision a synthezoid? How would-- no wait, don't answer that I really cannot tell you how much I don’t want to know the answer-- I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!” Peter yelled, almost dropping his coffee. “I’m gonna be an uncle!” he beamed. 

“You can’t say anything yet. I wanna tell Vision when he gets home in a few days before you open your big Parker mouth to someone who _really_ can’t keep a secret. Like--”

“Clint,” they finished at the same time, laughing. 

“Do you think it’ll be twins?” Peter asked after a beat.

“I don’t know yet. Twins have been known to skip a generation, but not every time. So there’s always a chance,” Wanda shrugged. “It’s so hard to know that I could have a boy and a girl, too. Mini Pietro and me. And he wouldn’t even be here to see it.”

“Would you tell me about him? I only know a few things and I’d love to know more. If you want to, of course.”

“Absolutely. Is there anything specific you want to know?” Wanda asked. 

“Nope. Tell me everything,” Peter said, smiling. 

And Wanda did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!!!!  
> So Wanda is pregnant...  
> What I'm thinking is taking this and making it a spinoff into Wanda and Vision's _real_ journey towards parenthood, not the quick one that WandaVision gave them, and a MUCH happier ending. 
> 
> (my end of chapter notes tend to continue to find their way to the end of the entire work itself, so if this does that, this belongs after Wanda's chapter and you have my apologies!)


	3. Dr. Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Clint  
> 2\. Wanda  
> 3\. Steve  
> 4\. Dr. Strange  
> 5\. Carol/Capt. Marvel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't connect to Dr. Strange too much, but I like him a lot! So I don't think this is my favorite thing I've ever written, but I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it.   
> Comments keep me going, feel free to drop one if you like this, or have any suggestions for other fics/series I could start that you would like to see!

When you became an Avenger, it was pretty much a given that Tony Stark, no matter how begrudgingly, would give you a card to Stark Tower. Usually a level 9, which was reserved for visiting Avengers. Peter loved his new family, it was great. His only issue was: the Tower was never empty. Never. All of the Tower residents could be gone except for him, and Rhodey would still end up coming around for dinner, Pepper would sit on the couch to take a conference call and then spend some time checking in on him, Dr. Strange would swing by to make sure Peter was actually getting work done. Loki was called once so he could make sure Peter was coming back from patrol on time. Ms. Danvers (she insisted he call her Carol, but Peter wasn’t there yet) even came by on occasion when she was in the galaxy, and she would help him train and tell him all about the planets she’d been to. 

Peter was equal parts appreciative of the company and annoyed by it. He was 17 years old with super hearing, he would never say no to peace and quiet, or a quiet phone call with his boyfriend. Or just being left _alone_ , for Thor’s sake. 

One night, the entirety of the aforementioned heroes, their lovely CEO, and Loki, who was referred to as a morally gray friend, had wound up at the compound over the course of a few hours. Peter’s head had felt particularly loud that day, so he had, for once, welcomed all the company he’d gotten, inviting them all to stay for tacos. No one had the bad sense to say no to Peter’s tacos, there was just something about them. Mr. StarLord called them crack-tacos. 

It was getting close to dark when he finally finished all the prep alone, never allowing the chance for someone to mess up his food magic. He called everyone to get their tacos, and the laughter and joking moved toward him. Peter smiled, because when his extended family was around, his head was a little quieter. Not as quiet as it was when he was with his dad or Wanda or even Bucky, but he was still so grateful for the reprieve.

“So Strange, you were a… brain surgeon?” Ms. Danvers asked. She and the doctor had spent their night getting acquainted, since they really had never formally met before recent months. 

“I was, yes. Before my accident, I was a highly sought-out neurosurgeon,” the doctor nodded. “I took on the people that no one else was able to operate on.”

“So why do you still go by doctor if you’re not actually a doctor anymore?” Rhodey asked. Peter was pretty sure he saw Dr. Strange’s 

“I don’t practice, but I earned my degree, I’m not going to throw out the title I worked so many years to earn.”

“Yeah, but didn’t you take the Oath? The one that doctors take to do no harm? Is doing… what we do breaking that oath?”

“I did take the Oath--”

“Which is to protect without bias, but I’ve seen you on the battlefield and I wouldn’t say that’s how it ends up.”

At this point, the Sorcerer Supreme is completely stiff, and Peter shoots Rhodey a nasty look, one that he _knows_ reads _back the hell off you’re being an ass_. 

As he looks around, he notices Pepper giving Rohdey the same face. They all sit down at the large dining table, mostly quiet. It’s eventually Loki who strikes up conversation. 

“So, Captain… Ms. Danvers… I’m sorry, how would you like to be addressed?”

“Carol is fine, thanks,” the captain smirked, nodding. 

“So, Carol,” Loki started again, testing the name out. “Where did you grow up?”

“I grew up in Boston in the early 1970s.”

“Do you just… not age?” Pepper asked, incredulously. “Because I grew up in the late 70’s and I look like I could probably be your mother, or at very least your aunt.”

“I honestly have no idea. I don’t come by that many mirrors in other galaxies. My aging seems to have come to a near-grinding halt, though, if Fury is any indication,” Ms. Danvers laughed. The conversation continued without the input of Dr. Strange, who Peter kept a close eye on for the rest of the meal. 

Eventually, the meal came to an end and once the table was cleared, Dr. Strange started to say his goodbyes and go. 

“Hey, Dr. Strange. Can I come with you? I really want a game of chess, and no one here is any good.” It was a weak-ass excuse, and Peter knew it, but he was hoping to maybe undo some of the damage his dad’s best friend had done, too used to Tony to have a filter. He and Strange had played chess before, and although Peter wasn’t great, it was fun and he knew the doctor enjoyed their games. Plus, it was a weekend. Spider-Man could go out a little later, he’d probably be of more use then anyway.

The doctor raises an eyebrow at him, and Peter tries to look as normal as possible. No ulterior motives here. 

“Pepper? Is that okay?” he asked eventually. 

“I mean, I don’t see an issue. Are you still going to try to patrol tonight, kid?”

“Yeah, I’ll plan on heading out after a game or two. I won’t stay out long,” Peter said, directing the last statement towards Loki, who nodded. 

“Okay, then. Back by midnight, right?”

“Yeah, Pep. Back by midnight,” Peter promised as Dr. Strange opened a portal and they both stepped through it to the New York Sanctum, where Peter was immediately tackled by the Cloak of Levitation. He wasn’t quite sure why the Cloak was so attached to him, but he would take all the hugs he could get, even if it was from a cape. 

“So… what was that all about?” the doctor asked after the Cloak finally backed off. _Now here, dear children,_ Peter thought, because apparently his brain liked the idea of narrating. _Peter is faced with a decision. Does he tell the truth and apologize for Rhodey, or does he decide to do a favor and spare the pride of the egotistical doctor he and his family had come to be so fond of?_

“Oh, nothing really. Everything is just… everything is so loud today,” Peter said, which was true. The look on Dr. Strange’s face said that he knew Peter didn’t mean his enhanced hearing. 

“Ah. Gotcha. Are you sure you want to play chess? Or do you just want to sit in the quiet for a while?”

“Nah, let’s play a game or two. Just don’t get too upset when you realize my time has finally come and I’m absolutely going to beat you this time.”

“Sure, kid.”

“Seriously!” Peter said as his friend retrieved the chess board and got it set up. They started their game in silence, but Peter could see the thoughts swirling behind the doctor’s eyes. 

“I have a question,” he said after a few moves. Dr. Strange looked up at him from the board, his equivalent of a nod at this point. “Why do you have us all call you Dr. Strange all the time?”

“Kid, you can _call_ me Stephen. You’re allowed to,” the doctor said, stopping when he saw the deadpan look the teen was giving him. “That’s not your point, okay. Well I mean the first and foremost reason is it’s my actual name. I have a PhD, which earns me the title of Doctor. That was always my name. I once yelled at the Sorceress Supreme, my predecessor, that she wasn’t to call me Mr. Strange or Master Strange, that it was Doctor Strange. That was my name when I was saving lives in an operating room, that’s my name now when I’m saving lives out of the operating room. And honestly, second of all, look me in the eyes and say you really want to call me Master Strange. Because as someone who was called that, I can’t say I _want_ you to call me Master Strange. It feels… entirely wrong.” 

“Okay. That’s a fair point,” Peter laughed. “Did you really yell at the old Sorceress?”

“I did. And then she threw me on my ass. But everyone called me Dr. Strange after that. And now it’s just the name the public knows me as, because I really didn’t think through what I was saying after one fight, and when a reporter asked me my name, I told him.”

“I mean, it’s probably best you didn’t try something on the spot, y'know? I mean… I kind of did. Spider-Man. I feel like I could have gotten more creative with more time, but the media called me Spider-Man and I didn’t have anything to counter them with. Using your own name is a guarantee to not sound like a total moron when spitting out a name.”

“That’s fair,” Dr. Strange said, letting the conversation lapse back into silence. 

“Check,” Peter said.

“Checkmate,” came Strange’s triumphant crow just seconds later, and Peter groaned. “Another game?” he asked. “Or should you get going?”

“I have time for another,” Peter nodded. “And this time I’m winning.”

“Positive thinking is the first step, kid.”

It took three more (relatively quick) games for Peter to give up, accept his defeat, and decide he really should go on patrol. 

“Thanks for the games, Dr. Strange. Even if I lost. Maybe you should teach me instead of playing me?” Peter suggested. 

“If that’s something you want to try, I’m up for the challenge,” the sorcerer smirked. 

“Let’s plan on that next time chess comes up, then,” Peter grinned, tapping his watch as they walked to the door of the New York Sanctum, letting his suit cover him. 

“Hey kid,” Strange called as Peter walked down the steps. “I’m not that clueless. I know you were trying to cheer me up tonight when you could have been patrolling.”

“Did it help?” Peter asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“It did. I’m much better now. Thanks, kid. Be safe out there, Spider-Man,” the sorcerer said, closing the door with a grin, and Peter swung off into the night.


	4. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Clint  
> 2.Wanda  
> 3\. Dr. Strange  
> 4\. Steve  
> 5\. Carol (Captain Marvel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I decided to pull my original idea and morph it a little. A little more feels than I originally intended, but hey, it's what I do best. I hope you love this as much as I do, I'm actually kind of proud of this one. It's long as hell, but I felt like it was worth it.

Steve Rogers didn’t get sick. Maybe he’d get congested during pollen season, but he didn’t ever get truly sick. That was just a fact. However, something that Peter had noticed was that when Steve came down with anything, even a small cough or congestion, he and Bucky holed away in his room for a few days, and Steve always looked a little worse for wear, but he was never really sick. 

For that matter, Bucky and Peter rarely got sick either. Peter had an enhanced immune system, and Bucky refused to be tested to see what was up with his inability to get sick, so the rest of the team just accepted it and he was the designated mother-hen whenever sickness worked its way through the Tower. 

One day over Spring Break, Peter was headed back to the Tower after lunch with Ned, MJ, and Betty when he got a text from Steve.

\---------------------------------  
**Shmaptain Shmerica** 1:48 P.M.  
D’you know where Buck is? 

**Queens** 1:48 P.M.  
Left for a mission late last night, remember? Didn’t you guys say goodbye?

 **Shmaptain Shmerica** 1:50 P.M.  
No, I’ve been sleeping. He said he’d wake me up before he left.

 **Queens** 1:51 P.M.  
No offense, Uncle Steve, but if you’ve been sleeping for that long, Bucky knew better than to wake you up. You only sleep this late when you’re not feeling too great. You need me to swing by the store for anything?

Hehe. Swing. Get it? Cuz--

 **Shmaptain Shmerica** 1:53 P.M.  
We have to get your dad to give you some better puns. That was weak. I feel good, and I don’t think we need anything, thanks.  
\---------------------------------

“Bullshit!” Peter coughed into his fist, needing to say it but not wanting Steve to know he said it. It had happened twice before since Peter had lived at the Tower. Steve would sleep in late, and then Bucky would be worried until he woke up, and the second he did, Bucky would be in the room with him unless he came out to make some food for Steve or grab something for himself. 

Peter had always assumed that Steve actually _did_ get sick and was just doing a shitty job of hiding it from the rest of the group, but he never mentioned it because no one else ever did, and something in him told him he shouldn’t poke at it. 

When he got home, Peter half-hoped he would find Steve holed up in his room, taking the time he always did when he felt under the weather. But nope, when FRIDAY let him out on the Avenger’s common floor, there was Steve in his studio painting. Peter found himself stopping to observe the supersoldier, as he tended to do in these situations. He focused his hearing on Steve's studio, and watched him continue his painting before coughing into his elbow, wrapping his arms around himself and taking a shaky breath before continuing his painting. 

Peter watched the cycle repeat itself a few times, all the while texting Bucky to try to get some sort of direction, before he decided he should actually do something. 

\---------------------------------

 **the kiddo** 1:25 P.M.  
Hey, Buck, just wanted to warn you, I think Steve is coming down with something (???can he do that???) or at least kinda under the weather.

 **Mr. Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier White Wolf Sir** 1:25 P.M.  
Damn it. And let me guess, he’s painting?

 **the kiddo** 1:26 P.M.  
Yeah how the--

 **Mr. Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier White Wolf Sir** 1:28 P.M.  
We’ve technically been engaged for 70 years. You figure shit out quick. But painting is Stevie’s therapy. He really gets into it every time that he gets sick. It’s calming for him. But if this is your way of asking what to do since I’m not there because you feel responsibility for him, because I know you do?

 **the kiddo** 1:28 P.M.  
Well d u h obviously.

 **Mr. Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier White Wolf Sir**  
Get him the hell to bed. He’s gonna be anxious, but not disoriented. Just anxious. That’s not my story to tell, he’ll tell you if he wants to. But just try to get him to rest. A famous Parker hug might help too. You’ll know what to do. I give permission to use my name to your advantage, should you need to, and I should be home by tomorrow. 

**the kiddo** 1:29 P.M.  
Okay. Be safe. 

**Mr. Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier White Wolf Sir** 1:29 P.M.  
Always. Be good. Both of you.

\---------------------------------

Peter put his phone away, heading to Steve’s studio, admiring it as he moved closer.

His uncle really did get the good end of the deal with his studio. It was entirely surrounded by glass, so anyone could see in and watch him work. Inside, he had a wall to hang drying projects, three easels, an entire cabinet full of any supplies he could wish for, and a desk for sketching/drawing. Peter loved to sit outside of the studio and watch him work, sometimes facetiming Harley so he could witness it too. Steve truly was meant for art, and everyone was glad he’d found that passion again. 

“Uncle Steve?” Peter called, knocking on the door. Steve jumped, but nodded towards him when he realized who it was. Peter walked in, and Steve coughed before looking sheepish. “I’ve heard you coughing since I was a block away, don’t give me that face.” That wasn’t true, but Steve didn’t need to know he’d been watching him for the past 5 minutes, easily. “Wanna tell me the truth about how you’re feeling, Mr. America?” Peter raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. 

“I mean…” Steve sighed. “I…” Peter suddenly remembered Bucky mentioning that Steve was probably anxious, so he decided to make it easier for his uncle. 

“Let’s head upstairs and relax for a while. That cough didn’t sound so good. You should get off of your feet for a while.”

“Okay.”

Peter led the way upstairs, steering Steve towards his and Bucky’s room and sitting down on what he knew to be Bucky’s side, and thanked Thor silently as Steve sat on his side, most likely out of habit more than anything. 

“Uncle Steve? You wanna tell me what’s going on? Or do you just want me to leave you alone and let you sleep?”

“Can I just sleep?” Steve asked after a contemplative moment. Peter nodded.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll hang here, if that’s okay? Bucky’s chair is comfortable, and I wanna spin.” 

“Sure, bud. Go for it. Wake me up in a while, okay?” Steve asked, not bothering with a blanket as he curled up and started snoring. Peter sighed, shooting Bucky a quick text as he left the room, saying Steve was already sleeping. His phone immediately rang.

“You are. Literally. On a mission.”  
“I have some time. Nat is running surveillance before we take this thing down, not much for me to do right now. I’m just the muscle.” Peter could practically hear the shrug as Bucky spoke. “And I’m a clingy fiance who’s worried. So there’s that.”

“He’s fine, basically fell onto his pillow and fell asleep. You’re right, though. He’s anxious. Like, dad after a nightmare anxious. Is he… okay?”

“The real answer is kinda long, and none of my business to divulge. Not really. But the short answer is no. He’s not. And maybe if you ask, he’ll talk to you about everything, but I wouldn’t expect it. If he doesn’t get better, let me know. I can ditch, I’ll deal with repercussions later.”

“Bucky, no. I’ve got this. If you’ll be back by morning, I can handle it for at least that long. Besides, leaving only gets you here a few hours early, hours that he’ll probably spend asleep anyway. I’ll keep you updated. Go save the world, get off of your phone, old man.”

“Keep him safe for me, Pete.” It was the volume of Bucky’s voice that really showed his worry. 

“I will. And I owe you a massive hug when you get home. Now go.” Peter hung up, going back to spinning in the super soldier’s chair. 

It was maybe an hour before Steve stirred, sitting up and yawning, before his eyes locked on Peter.

“How’re you feeling, Uncle Steve?”

“Less disoriented, that’s for sure. Damn. I don’t even remember leaving the studio.” Steve punctuated his thought with a cough that sent him retreating into himself. 

“Do you want to… tell me anything about what’s going on? I don’t want to push you, but I’m curious.”

“I…” Steve stilled, and Peter could tell he was thinking. “I can try. No promises I make it through the whole story, but I can tell you a good bit. Join me up here, there’s plenty of space,” Steve said, patting the bed with a smirk that didn’t fill his face, just made him look like he was grimacing. 

Peter climbed up, already preparing himself for something sad, because that was how it tended to be with Steve and Bucky’s backstories. 

“How much do you know about pre-serum me?”

“I know pre-serum you and pre-Spider-Man me had similar body types. Could be described as scrawny or puny. You also got into fights a lot, and Bucky had to, and this is a direct quote from your fiance: ‘save his sorry ass at least three times a week’.”

“Fucker. He would say that. But he’s right. Also yes, I said fucker. I’m from Brooklyn, I just prefer to be a good example most of the time. Don’t give me that look.” Steve was referring to Peter’s indignant face. “Anyway, that’s all very true. I was small and scrappy, got into a lot of fights. Bet you never heard that I was maybe the sickest kid in the borough, though. I was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, and this is just what I _remember_ , I had asthma, heart palpitations, something with my nerves, a few joint deformities, scoliosis, color blindness, anemia, I was partially deaf, and we think I might have had diabetes, but there wasn’t really a name for that back then. Those were constant, but I had near-constant bouts of scarlet and rheumatic fever and sinusitis, too.”

“You… really?”

“Yeah. Kinda hard to imagine, huh?” Steve said, fidgeting with a pen he found on his bedside table. “But yeah. I was really sick. And when polio was a huge problem, I was so immunocompromised that I really couldn’t go to school. Bucky, of course, wanted to be wherever I was, and tried so many times to stay home to take care of me. He genuinely did help me feel better, but after a while neither of our parents was having it. Bucky went back to school, and I didn’t. That was that. I had a few…” Steve paused, and Peter waited. “I had a few really bad teachers and caregivers while my mom was at work over the years. One never even noticed when I started coughing up blood. A lot of them would send Bucky home the second he walked in the door to see me, because we were so behind in lessons because I needed so much rest. He stopped coming over during the week eventually, and we both cried when the polio vaccine came out, and we realized that I would get to go back to school. We’d just started dating back then. Getting sick now just… reminds me of so many things that I never was allowed control over. Bucky and I usually hole up in here so I can ride out my anxiety episode until it’s over. I… there’s other stuff but--”

“You don’t have to tell me anything more. Thank you for even sharing that much with me. I know sharing that isn’t easy.”

“You deserved to know, kid. I know we’re alike, we both get it. I didn’t have to think twice about telling you of all people. And yes, you can hug me. I can see the question on the tip of your tongue,” Steve said, grinning a little as Peter scooted over to hug his uncle. 

“How’re you feeling now? Any better now that you’ve spilled your guts. Metaphorically, of course,” Peter asked, muffled from where he had smushed himself into Steve’s shoulder. 

“For the most part yeah,” Steve sighed. 

“Is there anything else I can do?” Peter asked. Steve waited for a beat, and Peter imagined the gears turning in his brain. 

“I… just listen to one more thing? I feel weird not finishing the story, and I don’t mind telling you.”

“If you want to tell me, I’m all ears,” Peter nodded, pulling back to look at him. 

“I wasn’t… born Steve. So when I started having those bad teachers, the ones who never really cared, they were the ones I had after I chopped off all my hair in the bathroom one weekend and wouldn’t respond to anything except for Steve. Bucky had to help me tell me ma, because after I started coughing up blood, she wanted to know why no one cared enough to tell her before she noticed herself. So… Bucky had to sit and tell her while I cried behind him. She was supportive, but we couldn’t afford anyone better than the ones we already had. So…” Steve stopped, and Peter wasn’t sure if it was because he knew the rest was kind of obvious or because he couldn’t speak anymore. 

“How many people know?” Peter asked. 

“Most of the team. That's really all. I never thought about coming out until recently. I only had top surgery a while before you showed up, so anyone I trained with saw the fading scars. They don’t show anymore, Tony had a special cream to--”

“Totally erase the scarring. Yeah. I wasn’t born Peter, either,” Peter said. Steve looked at him quizzically. 

“You… really?”

“Yeah. I just never really mentioned it? Dad knows, of course. And Dr. Cho, since she performed the surgery. But since I was so in and out before I lived here, I just recovered with May, took a break. No one ever knew. I just was never really… quite sure where you guys stood on that, so I never mentioned it. The only people I’ve ever explicitly told were Ned, MJ, Harley, my aunt, dad, and Dr. Cho.”

“It took a few of them a minute, especially Wanda, since she grew up not knowing anything about transgender people or gay people, but everyone is super okay with it. Bucky was my biggest fan when I got my surgeries. You could come out to them if you wanted to,” Steve told him. 

“Maybe one day… I have time. I’m not too worried about it just yet, especially now knowing they would be okay with it.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, and Peter could tell he was still anxious, even after talking through everything, so he let the room fall silent, grabbing a stress ball from Bucky’s side of the bed and handing it to his uncle, who took it with a grateful look.

It was a while before Steve broke the silence, Peter’s phone showing 4:41 P.M., nearly 3 hours after he’d found Steve in the studio. Steve had gotten his sketchbook out and was working in that when he looked up.

“You don’t… have to stay, you know.”

“I know,” Peter shrugged. “I’ll leave once you fall asleep, but Bucky has texted me no less than four times to make sure I at least force some toast or soup into you before I let you sleep again. When you’re hungry, just let me know. Or when you get tired. Whatever comes first. Either way, I’m under strict orders that eating comes before sleeping.”

“He would say that…” Steve said fondly. “Did he happen to say when he would be home?” he asked after a minute, almost sheepish. 

“Sometime tomorrow. The mission should be almost over by now, if what he told me earlier was any indication.”

Steve nodded, and they let the silence fall yet again. Eventually, Peter had to eat, so he got up to go get himself a few pizzas. 

“Do you want anything?” Peter asked. “It’s no trouble, I have to get the pizzas anyway.”

Steve, back to squeezing the stress ball, only shook his head. Peter nodded once, stepping out to make the call. Usually he would ask FRIDAY, but he was suddenly craving the validation of being called “sir” on the phone. 

It took some time for the pizzas to get to the Tower, and in that time Peter changed out of his jeans and updated Bucky. He went back in to check on Steve, only to find him asleep. He wasn’t going to wake him up, even though Bucky might just have his ass for that if he found out. As promised, Peter closed the door and left Steve to his rest, leaving a half of a pizza by Steve’s bed and taking the rest back to his room before falling asleep early. 

When he woke up just after sunrise, and realized he should probably check on Steve, so he headed down the hall to do just that. He found Steve awake and definitely looking worse for wear. 

“Want some company?” he asked.

“Sure,” Steve nodded. 

“FRI, what’s the arrival time on Bucky and the team?” Peter asked. 

“They should be back any minute, Peter,” FRIDAY informed them. Steve visibly brightened, and Peter flopped down on the bed next to him, content to let Steve have his silence. “Sergeant Barnes is on his way up,” FRIDAY said a second later. _That_ got Steve to move, and even though he just sat up, Peter was glad to see some sign of life past a one-word answer. Peter was just standing up to leave when Bucky opened the door. 

“Hey, Stevie. How you feeling?” he asked, with eyes only for his fiance.

“I…” Steve trailed off, and Bucky nodded, going over to him and wrapping him up, Steve burying his face in Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked over his head, nodding at Peter, who took that as his cue to leave. He left, closing the door, and really tried not to hear what Bucky was telling Steve, but he literally couldn’t help it. 

“You’ve got this, Steve. My best guy, right?” Bucky asked quietly. 

“I love you.” was Steve’s only response. 

“I love you too,” Bucky sighed. 

Peter smiled to himself, walking back to his room, suddenly really missing Harley.

“Hey, darlin’,” Harley yawned as the call connected. “You okay?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m okay. Just wanted to hear your voice. Maybe wanted your opinion on something. I was thinking about coming out…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my lifeblood, they literally keep my running like quarters in one of those SUPER ancient horses outside of supermarkets. Please drop one if you liked this, or even drop some ideas of stuff you would maybe wanna see in the future?


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